


for I am no emmanuel

by tomato_greens



Series: something incredible waiting to be known [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-09
Updated: 2011-05-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomato_greens/pseuds/tomato_greens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it shall come to pass, for the abundance of milk that they shall give he shall eat butter: for butter and honey shall every one eat that is left in the land. - Isaiah 7:22</p>
            </blockquote>





	for I am no emmanuel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aja/gifts).



> Uhhhh thx Dickens & the KJV? Also, for [bookshop](http://bookshop.livejournal.com) because of her donation to [help_japan](http://community.livejournal.com/help_japan)! Her prompt was "I would love some non-sad Arthur/Eames of any variety."

"I'm unconvinced," Arthur says to the phone held between his ear and shoulder, removing the loaf of bread from the fridge and dodging nimbly out of the way of Eames's curious fingers. "What, does she have a fifty-year-old wedding cake crumbling to death in her dining room?"

Eames makes a face at him; Arthur starts buttering the bread, slapping Eames's knuckles with the flat of the knife when he tries to steal a piece. _No_ , he mouths.

"Make me one, then," Eames says, pouting outrageously.  

Arthur rolls his eyes but pulls another plate out of the cupboard. "No, Cobb, no one's here who shouldn't be, I promise you. So, tell me about Mrs. Havva Sham––what does the job look like it's going to be? Two layers or what?"

Eames hops up on the counter near where Arthur's assembling the sandwiches. He's lucky he's not as bulky as he's been recently or he'd probably send things flying without even realizing––then again, maybe not; he's always been keenly aware of the space he needs and the space he takes. Arthur hits him with the knife again and points to the cupboard. _Honey_ , he mouths. Eames face contorts somewhere in between confusion and tenderness, so Arthur rolls his eyes and continues, _Get me the honey_.

Eames obliges easily enough, probably dipping a finger in behind Arthur's back but Arthur has long acknowledged that what he can't see probably can't hurt him too badly. "Uh huh," he says, "well, get her grandson in on it then, he's probably dying to get out of the sister's house, isn't he?"

Arthur slathers the honey on the other pieces of bread and carefully fits the sandwiches together, cutting one in regular halves for himself and cutting the other diagonally for Eames, who will make faces if Arthur doesn't cater to his weird sandwich whimsies, the ass. Sometimes Arthur has to cut off the crusts. Oh, the indignity.

Eames smacks sticky kisses on Arthur's cheek until Arthur forcibly pushes his face away, trying not to laugh. "No, Cobb, no, I promise," he says, "I'm fine. Sorry. Just a little preoccupied. But you're thinking we'll need a forger, I can––yeah, I'll call around and see what I can come up with. You too. Say hi to Mal and Phil and James for me. Yeah. Bye."

"No 'I love you's? I'm surprised," Eames says, mouth full.

"You're disgusting," Arthur says, and kisses him full on the lips, honey and butter and all.


End file.
